Early this week, I set aside two consecutive mornings to explore tracts south of Kumizhi. These spaces, significantly green by suburban standards, had piqued my curiosity while driving down Nellikuppam Road. By finally choosing to explore them, I was also giving myself an excuse to revisit Kumizhi. So, on both mornings, I take road number 597, which branches off Vandalur-kelambakkam Road at Mellakotaiyur and leads to a more constricted and largely pitted road that bisects Kumizhi, Otthivakkam and other areas that offer a sumptuous feast for the eyes.
For fear that I’ll display a seemingly inordinate fascination for Kumizhi, I’ll keep it for the last. In the forest areas of Otthivakkam, I came upon breathtaking blooms of memecylon umbellatum. Colloquially known as Ironwood, this shrub produces flowers that are an exquisite mix of blue, pink and white, with blue being the dominating hue. It’s a rare blue, one that seems to have tinges of purple and violet. Though ironwood shrubs are known as “anjani” in Tamil, in these parts, many call them “kaasan”.
Reaching Mellakalvoy on Nellikuppam Road, I resisted an urge to clamber up a hill. The hill was inviting due to the calls of peacocks. This hill seemed considerably easier to climb than the one in Kumizhi I attempted to, the previous day, and almost lost my sense of direction. Besides the satisfaction of having undertaken a climb, I would return home with mental snapshots of what I consider the most beautiful among the birds I have seen in the wind, even grander than flamingoes.
After the odometer reading on my car had progressed by one more kilometre, and I had reached Kalvoy, I see another stunted hill — more of a hillock than a hill — which also echoed with the bawl-like calls of a peacock. Parking my metallic steed, I walked up this pancake of a hill, found near Kalvoy lake which was dry as a bone except for a small pool of glue-like water. On this hill, I did not have to negotiate any steep ascents. Employing the device of analogy, the climb was an equivalent of a limbering-up exercise before a workout. The peacock played hide and seek, calling persistently but never once showing its form. By calling out to me, it ensured that I ranged over much of this hill. And then, my attention shifted from the its calls to the hill itself. I notices that it was bigger than I realised — only that it had grown horizontally. I walked further, taking trails that partly resembled pebbled pathways and I enjoyed being on this hill. As I headed back, I told myself few things were unspectacular, and only thinking made them so. After Kalvoy, I hit Nellikuppam and from there, I took a road that wound through Illalur village and finally hit Thiruporur. However, almost mid-way, at Ammapettai, I turned left and drove down a well-laid road leading to Vembedu hill, where a temple is located on the summit. There are two ways to access the summit, without without straining one’s sinews. One of them is a wide unpaved, but neatly-created pathway. Made of concrete, the other has a regular alternation of ramps and flights of steps.
Now, an effusive account of how Kumizhi bowled me over once again. Kumizhi is part of a region that is generously endowed with greenery. But its is greener than most other places in these parts. And, it’s packed tight with life. Whenever I have visited Kumizhi, I have noticed an impressive number of small birds that feed largely on insects. During this trip, I found many pairs of pied bushchats flitting by. Kumizhi has around 500 families living in scattered settlements, but it is quieter than most other places. Besides these usual reasons, at Kumizhi this time, I was charmed by one more. I was treated to a dance in the skies. Wherever I turned, I was greeted by flights of butterflies. In recent weeks, there have been reports of butterflies visiting many neighbourhoods in large numbers. But these charming creatures of the air seem to have taken over the whole of Kumizhi.
(Hidden Trails is a column that shows you how to be a tourist in your own city.)